


The Inconvenience of Attraction

by randomcanbian



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/F, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-26
Updated: 2017-08-26
Packaged: 2018-12-20 03:17:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,660
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11912082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/randomcanbian/pseuds/randomcanbian
Summary: Josephine tries to ignore her crush on the Herald. So far, it's been proving itself to be incredibly difficult.(featuring: Lady Trevelyan in an Antaam-saar)





	The Inconvenience of Attraction

"And how goes the invitation to Halamshiral, Josie? Any updates?" Leliana asked.

"Nothing new since we last spoke, I'm afraid."

The advisors made light talk while waiting for the Herald. Lady Trevelyan had arrived from Val Royeaux two days prior, and after a debriefing they had set time to convene in the War Room to talk about the future directions they were to take before the noblewoman set off for the Storm Coast.

There was a sound as the door to the room opened. Josephine looked up from the letter she had been reading on her clipboard. Immediately, she felt lightheaded, as if the blood had drained from her head.

"Lady Trevelyan," Cullen begun cautiously, "what are you wearing?"

Josephine couldn't look away from the skin that the Herald's... attire... exposed. Her eyes lingered on the definition of her strong shoulders, on her abdomen and the muscles rippling underneath its taut skin.

 _Maker_ , she was...it shouldn't come as a surprise that Evelyn was gloriously well-defined. She had spent weeks constantly hefting her sword and shield, spends days at a time trekking through the wilderness in the heavy armor she usually wore. And yet...

"Antaam-saar?" Leliana ventured.

"Yes. I, er, thought it appropriate, given that I plan to meet that Qunari mercenary leader...Iron Bull, was it?" With a sheepish grin, she adds: "I do feel, however, that I should have waited to put it on. It is very cold here."

Josephine would have smiled, had she remembered how to use her face. What became of her quick wit? Her everlasting composure?

"Truly," Leliana agreed, very much amused. "But why their light armor? Why not the shokra-taar?"

"I...I wasn't aware that was a thing."

Josephine took a hold of herself, lest her colleagues become aware of her lapse in attention.

"You seem vulnerable to attack, if you don't mind my saying, Herald." Lady Trevelyan turned towards Josephine at the sound of her voice. The ambassador willed her cheeks to stop burning as their eyes met. "It would seem easy for an arrow to find its mark," Josephine continued, pointedly keeping her gaze from the Inquisitor's midriff.

"I do feel very exposed," she admitted. "But really, this is all for show! I'll ask Solas very nicely to maintain a barrier around me until this Chargers' business is settled and I can get into my usual armor again."

"I suppose that will work," Cullen replied, albeit still with some skepticism. "Leliana's scouts say that the Chargers' camp is mere minutes away from our own. I doubt anyone could ambush you in the time it takes to get there."

"See? Everything's going to turn out fine," the Herald said with a grin. "Now, let's get on with the actual planning, shall we? Before you all just start ganging up on me and my poor fashion choices."  

They talked on for a length, covering a variety of topics from the takeover of Hargrave Keep to the wolf situation in the Hinterlands. Eventually, the discussion wound down and the Inquisitor excused herself to prepare for her journey east. With nothing else to talk about, the commander left as well.

"Good day, ladies," he said, before exiting the room. Josephine made to follow, thanking the Maker that no one had caught on to the moment of weakness she had experienced earlier on.

"So, Josie..."

Josephine stopped in her tracks. She turned casually, as if the coyness in the spymaster's voice hadn't set off the alarm in her head, and was met with a sly grin.

"Yes, Leliana?" she replied demurely. She had a faint hope that her friend would take pity on her and spare her the embarrassment any further questioning would cause.

It was hoping in vain, it would seem. "You seemed distracted earlier. Is anything the matter?"

Denial. Denial seemed the easiest reply. "I don't know what you mean, Leli."

Miraculously, Leliana seemed to drop it. "I see," she said with a slight nod. "I may have been mistaken." Josephine had to keep herself from uttering a relieved sigh.

As it turned out, Leliana had arranged to meet with a scout outside Haven's gates. The ambassador herself had matters to discuss with Cassandra, who was no doubt training with the soldiers, so they found themselves walking together even after they exited the War Room.

Josephine felt the crisp winds of the Frostback Mountains as soon as they left the chantry. In the layers that her daily attire provided, she still shivered. Despite herself, she thought of Lady Trevelyan—she, even withstanding her earlier upbeat attitude, must be freezing...it wouldn't do if the woman froze to death.

"If we could drop by the quartermaster's for a moment," she informed Leliana. They walked towards quartermaster Threnn, from whom Josephine quickly managed to acquire a fur-lined coat.

"Don't you have your own coat?" Leliana asked.

"This is for the Herald, " Josephine evenly answered. At the arch of the spymaster's eyebrow, she quickly added: "She may catch something in this frigid air; I doubt any of us would want her to end up sick."

"Of course," the spymaster agreed, even as her lips curled into a smile. The ambassador pretended not to notice.

They quickly arrived at the gates of the compound. As luck would have it, both the Herald and the Seeker were standing near the training grounds. No need for Josephine to search for either separately.

"I see Charter," Leliana said, looking at a figure standing near the smithy. "Later, Josie." The ambassador continued walking towards the two warriors, who seemed to be in deep conversation. Or rather; _Cassandra_ was conversing while Evelyn was listening with rapt attention.

Josephine's steps faltered for a few moments—the lightheadedness from earlier made a return as the Herald's profile came into clearer focus. It befuddled the ambassador. She had always been aware of the beauty the noblewoman possessed. Yet in the past few days, seeing anything, even just a glimpse of her charming grin, had given Josephine pause.

She had tried making sense of the emotions she had been feeling, and the only explanation she could come up with was that she may have developed some sort of... _crush_.

But how unfortunate if that were true! How utterly inappropriate, and how poorly timed! There should be no time for such thoughts with the end of the world looming over their heads.

Gaining hold of herself, the ambassador approached the two women at the tail-end of Cassandra's spiel.

"Good day, Lady Pentaghast. Hello again, Lady Trevelyan." The smile the Herald was giving her should not be so dazzling, damn it.

"What brings you here, ambassador?" the Cassandra asked.

"I wanted to ask if you could stop by my office later to help me write a letter. I received a message from the Mortalitasi, and given my dearth of experience in dealing with the order, I was hoping you could prevent me from committing any epistolary faux pas."

"Is it urgent?" Cassandra asked. Josephine followed her gaze to the stables, where a number of stablehands were busy loading a number of mounts with supplies. "The Herald and I are to leave for the Storm Coast soon. We are merely waiting for the horses to be loaded."

"Ah. Well, you'll be back with in the week, I've heard? If so, it can wait until then."

The Seeker let out a grunt in acknowledgement, after which Josephine turned to Lady Trevelyan.

"And this is for you, my lady," she said, ignoring the flutter in her chest at the sight of the Herald's eyes widening as she handed her the coat. "You mentioned earlier you were cold."

"You are Maker-sent, Josephine," the noblewoman replied gratefully, eagerly putting it on. "I don't know why I didn't think of this sooner."

Cassandra let out a snort. "It amuses me that even though we've hunted dozens of wild beasts to give their pelts to the refugees, you've forgotten to keep yourself warm."

"I've been a little preoccupied," said Evelyn in defense. "Reports from the Storm Coast say there've been sightings of darkspawn. Who _wouldn't_ be preoccupied by that?"

The conversation was moving towards talk of the two warriors' upcoming journey. With nothing else to say, Josephine prepared to excuse herself.

"Oh, ambassador, before I forget." She watched as the Herald opened her coat to root through a pouch tied to her belt (—the movement revealing flashes of skin that Josephine _should not_ be yearning to see, Maker's breath). Moments later, she held out an intricately-decorated paper box. "It's for you," she continued, giving it to Josephine. "Carastian candles. The spymaster let slip that you hoarded these little things, so I bought some when we passed by the Summer Bazaar."

"I do not hoard," the ambassador lightly protested. The feelings of surprise, of delight, threatened to overwhelm her. It was such a small, insignificant detail, and yet Lady Trevelyan had remembered it. And not only that, but she had decided to act on it, too! She managed to fight down what could possibly have been a manic grin, and instead shot the Herald a thankful smile.

"Nevertheless," she said, "I truly appreciate this, my lady."

"A small thing, given all that you do for us, but I am glad that you like it."

If she stayed any longer under Evelyn's warm words and warm eyes, she may actually die.

"I should be off. There are a stack of letters on my desk just waiting to be read by Carastian candlelight. Thank you again, Evelyn. Safe travels to you both." With a smile, she walked away, as briskly as propriety allowed her.

The gift was, of course, platonic in nature, but that did not diminish the happiness it made her feel. As soon as she gets to her desk, she will reach out to a friend to send her something to give back to the Herald.

"Now," she mumbled under her breath, "what would Lady Trevelyan like?"


End file.
